Four Corners
by princest
Summary: Dearka is gone, and Yzak is left behind. A somewhat dark, angsty view on Yzak's feelings towards his best friend and teammate. EDIT: Rating goes up from chapter two onwards.
1. A Room

**Four corners**

Yzak felt like he was floating. The bedsheets under his fingertips felt like nothing at all, and the feeling of ground beneath his feet was almost mocking – he couldn't possibly be here, like this, by himself, feeling like he was being suffocated by the heavy silence of the room. The only sound was the silent humming noise of the ship and the faint, painful thumping of his heart that was the only thing that reminded Yzak that he was alive, after all.

But then again, the world "alive", apllied to himself, seemed more like a sick joke.

On the bed across the room were several personal belongings – Dearka's lighter, the golden one, a few photos of similing faces Yzak had only seldomly seen, a few CDs, a stash of magazines, a wristwatch.

The silence was bearing down on him, devouring his very being.

Dearka Elthman, Missing In Action.

It was actually just an euphemism for: Lost And Most Probably Never To Be Found Alive Again.

Yzak's breath was heavy, as seemed every step he took towards his former roommate's bed.

_He's gone._

Yzak reached for the golden lighter.

Dearka's blonde hair.

That blonde hair that Yzak would find nowhere ever again.

He tried to flick it on, only to notice that it seemed empty. He tried to switch it on until his thumb hurt from the friction. Enraged, he threw it against the window with a choked noise that could have been everything - a cry or a sob, but it didn't even crack slightly, only hit the glass with a small _clack_, then fell down onto the bed again.

Dearka's smile that was gone, the slight quirk of his blonde eyebrow.

The sound of him snoring lightly across the room at night – where should Yzak look for it now?

His voilet eyes that shone with mishief, that cocky grin, the teasing, smooth voice, the snide remarks, the sound of his footsteps right behind him, always right behind him ...

Yzak stared into space from behind the massive glass numbly. For what should he go out there and fight? What for should he stay in this room that did nothing but remind him of Dearka?

Why should he stay in the middle of these four corners, the only one left behind, with the memory of those warm eyes that he would never see again?

He did not cry, did not scream, did not want to be there right now, wanted to be nowhere, nowhere at all.


	2. A Vision That Will Not Vanish

**A Vision That Will Not Vanish**

There was something lingering between them, something neither of them did dare to give voice to, like a protest that was held back either out of politeness or out of the desire to avoid possible embarrassment that could ensue for both parties - Dearka was quite sure it was the latter.

He also thought that Miriallia felt it, too.

Even as Dearka hungrily stroked her bare skin and kneaded her breasts firmly (_A girl, this, a girl -_), making the brown-haired girl under him sigh quietly (_Sweet, melodic sounds, definitely female, too soft and pleading to come from anything but a woman -_), he kept his eyes shut tightly, he kept on silently murmuring inside his mind, almost _begging,_ for his chest to stop feeling so unbearingly, painfully tight.

They never lasted long when they were like this, and soon Dearka was pushing inside Miriallia, who had her arms looped around Dearka's neck, rocking against the boy in sync. (_Doing the most natural thing in the world, joining, uniting, and yet-_)

Not even the feeling of the girl's very much female curves against his own body that was slick with sweat were of any help - the only thing on Dearka's mind was the sleek figure of a silver-haired boy, the milky skin with the almost frail seeming limbs if it weren't for the firm muscles beneath, muscles from years of exercise (_Always careful not to watch _too closely_ in the group showers, during the countless hours they had spent working out at the academy._).

"Dearka-" came the panted moan (_Yzak's voice was harsh and unforgiving_), and Dearka's hands roamed over her bare back, squeezing lightly as he kept on shoving his lenght into her, closer, just a bit -

He could not shake the faint memory of Yzak's body under his when they had been engaging in such profane things as tickling or wrestling, perfectly _normal_ activities among boys, perfectly normal situations that came along with long years of close friendship ... _(Not like _that_, no!)_

Dearka felt his whole body tense as he reached the pit, and for a moment everything faded away into a blur of white and memories, still, _memories_ of what Yzak's body looked like under the blankets, lying in bed just across the room, the fragrance of the boy's shampoo and his proud profile, staring ahead with his icy blue eyes ... _(Will I ever see him again like this?)_

_What have I done? Gods, what have I -_

Finally, Dearka lost comtrol and let his mind be washed blank by the waves of pleasure that crashed over him, sending him over the edge.

When they were done and had successfully entangled themselves from each other, still breathing harshly with exhaustion, Dearka finally dared to open his eyes, gazing at Miriallia's naked body lying right in front of him. A hand was draped over her forehead, while she was trying to regain her breath. She stared right back at him, her eyes seeming questioning, holding some undefinable emotion but did not dare to say anything. Her slightly trembling hand did not dare to reach out for Dearka.

Dearka leaned forward then, watching the girl closely as he slowly reached up to touch her still reddened cheek gently, cupping it with his palm. His eyes were open now, and darkness no longer kept him save, kept his thoughts hidden. He swallowed hard, hoping for his hand to start trembling like it did, thinking; _Why can't I leave you behind?_

His thumb traced Miriallia's swollen lips slowly. _Why can't I be like this with this girl?_

He forced himself to fix his eyes on Miriallia's face again, and all he saw were Yzak's hurt eyes, how his blushed cheeks clashed horribly with his pale skin and his silver hair that was spilled around his head like a crown of light.

_Why do you keep on haunting me like this?_

Miriallia did not respond when Dearka leaned forward and kissed her slowly, careful to keep his mouth shut. She did not even tense, did not even close her eyes, just stared at the ceiling until Dearka pulled away again and sat up.

The girl took a few deep breaths before sitting up as well.

With the two of them sitting on the disshelved bed, naked, there wasn't anything left to hide.

"I think we are both trying to forget someone."

Miriallia's voice was neutral, holding neither disappointment nor anger.

Dearka turned his head away eventually, giving in to the girl's firm gaze. He wordlessly got up and went straight to the shower.


End file.
